


You Kiss How You Talk

by Aquavitae



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9174784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquavitae/pseuds/Aquavitae
Summary: Kravitz realizes that he and Taako approach their thoughts a lot differently. It's something he figures out slowly, but he learns he loves Taako all the more for it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> rated teen for Swears
> 
> i have really bad adhd and i wanted to write a fic where taako has adhd and kravitz doesn't get it at first and then he's like 'oh'

Taako kisses the way he talks. He kisses the he way he acts – the way he lives and exists. Kravitz would love to romanticize it. Kravitz would love to say that Taako is a tornado pirouetting across a desert, the cacophonous cracking of the fissured earth.

The truth of it is that Taako is just unpredictable, easily distracted, and occasionally oblivious.

And that is exactly how Taako kisses.

It, uh, took some getting used to. It’d been years (decades? shit, he doesn’t keep track) since Kravitz kissed someone and the first time he and Taako kiss deeply, sat side by side on a park bench in an empty stretch of grass outside Neverwinter, he worries that he’s lost his touch. Taako kisses like the tide - coasting in and out of interest. Taako kisses like there’s an egg timer in his pocket telling him that every two minutes he needs to break the kiss and talk about Kravitz’s coat, or a tree, or a weird bird, or a cloud that looks like Magnus holding Merle in a headlock.

Kravitz initially panics beneath his skin, concerned that he’s not doing something right. That he’s doing something to bore Taako. He tries kissing Taako’s neck, lacing their fingers and telling Taako that he’s beautiful, that he’s handsome, that he smells amazing and Kravitz adores it, and Taako…

Taako perks up and launches into a story about where he got the cologne that Kravitz just complimented. Turns out it’s from Fantasy Costco, he says. “It’s supposed to smell like pearl extract and jasmine but it smells more like a garden party? Like, one that a bunch of lesbian grandmothers would throw? Do you get that vibe?”

Kravitz opens his mouth to ask Taako if he’s okay – he worries that he’s made him uncomfortable and this is Taako trying to change the subject – but the look in Taako’s eyes is one he recognizes as pure-hearted, infallible earnest. He really wants to know if Kravitz thinks he smells like a lesbian grandma party. “Yeah,” Kravitz says, his panic easing off. “I get that vibe.”

“Okay, thank fuck!! Cause Merle said it smells like a fucking funeral bouquet! Like he knows shit about shit!”

This kind of thing happens a couple more times before everything kind of clicks in Kravitz’s head like two corrugated gears interlocking.

The way Taako kisses has nothing to do with Kravitz. It’s got nothing to do with boredom, or discomfort, or trepidation, or anxiety, or anything like that. It’s got everything to do with the way that Taako is.

They’re behind the Chug ‘n’ Squeeze at what Kravitz supposes is supposed to be close to midnight, though the rapid solar cycles aboard the Bureau’s false satellite betray any coherent passage of time, and Taako’s got his arms wrapped around Kravitz. “Had a lot of fun,” he says, and his voice is soft. Low.

Kravitz tries to breathe steadily for the sake of composure moreso than any need for oxygen. “I did, too,” he murmurs. Neither of them are drunk. The wine that night was an awful sparkling white wine that made Taako’s nose fizz, allegedly, so Kravitz abstained as well for his sake. They’re stone cold sober but Taako’s cheeks are still warm and Kravitz’s heart utterly belongs to him.

“I like going out with you.” Taako leans up, nudging his nose against Kravitz’s. Then he rocks back onto his heels and presses his mouth against the column of Kravitz’s neck. He kisses at the cold patches of scarred and unscarred skin. Kravitz’s hands find Taako’s waist and the silk belt there, ornate motifs of flowers soon to bloom raised in gold thread.

Taako pulls him down into a kiss – slowly and patiently enough to give Kravitz the time to back away if he’s not on the same page (he is, though, Gods is he ever) – and they share a tight embrace in the ugly phosphorescent light of the only lantern behind the Chug ‘n’ Squeeze. It’s not romantic in its own right, but being here with Taako makes it romantic, he thinks. Kravitz feels Taako smile against his mouth and he almost cries, it’s so sweet.

His thoughts are only on Taako, now. On how far their relationship has come and where it is headed yet. Things are looking good for the two of them. Kravitz thinks about how he’d like to spend all his time with Taako once the future allows it. Travelling, maybe. He wants to see the deserts Taako hails from and he w-

Taako abruptly breaks the kiss to say, “I wish you’d stop making urns every time we come to the Chug ‘n’ Squeeze, though.”

There’s a beat where Kravitz’s head is just blank before he reflexively sputters, “They’re vases!” He’s halfway between enamoured and indignant.

“They’re urns, Little Bone Peep. You ever seen a vase? You wanna see a vase? I can take you to Fantasy Costco and show you what a vase looks like but they sure as shit don’t look like the sad-ass funerary sculptures you keep makin’.”

It’s such a sudden whiplash in mood that Kravitz is left reeling. He’s not really offended about the urn thing (no, really, he’s not! he swears), he’s moreso just… lost. He was thinking about kissing his boyfriend in an arid sandscape, sun on their skin and hands in each others hair and Taako was… “You were thinking about urns?” he asks, tentative, “The whole time we were kissing?”

Taako blinks. “Well, no, not the whole time, obviously. I think about shit besides urns, babe.”

Kravitz is starting to piece together that maybe these sudden swings in topic have nothing to do with any desire to stop the intimacy. He is starting to think that this is just how Taako’s brain fires. “Like what? What do you think about when we kiss?”

Taako playfully shoves at him, “What? You wanna hear that when we make out I mentally picture you as a lifeguard on Fantasy Baywatch?”

“N-no! What? No! Gods, what??”

Taako unravels into giggles, hands on Kravitz’s upper arms as he sways. “Okay, okay. Hm. Well, I was thinking about us. I remembered our first date. I remembered that really cool bowl I made. Do you remember that bowl?? Wasn’t it a fucking sick bowl?”

“It was a fucking sick bowl,” Kravitz affirms, “Very tasteful.”

“Tasteful as hell. Uh. Then I thought about what you made. And how your vase looked like an urn? And then I thought about our second date here when I made that teacup. And you made another urn. And then I thought about today when you made another urn.”

“And your desire to point out my proficiency for urn-crafting outweighed the immediate need to kiss me?”

“Haha, fuck yeah. You goth.”

Ah. It makes sense. Things that, to Kravitz, are passing thoughts of fancy that he can observe and not act on are, to Taako, thoughts that cling to him like remoras. Voicing them is as natural as breathing. Voicing them is as natural as kissing.

Taako kisses just like he talks, Kravitz thinks with a rolling bloom of infatuation.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes, palm spreading over the small of Taako’s back before bending the small distance to bring their mouths together again.

Taako breaks the kiss a couple of times to mumble something about how they’re going to do wine and painting for their next date and Kravitz better not paint a fucking coffin, “Or so help me, Gods,” and with every word Kravitz finds himself more deeply in love.

**Author's Note:**

> i changed urls! i'm catsi on tumblr now. hmu and let's cry about taz
> 
> (also if you have adhd and you feel like this wasn't an accurate representation of the disorder, i apologize - i'm going off of my own experience and we might have had wildly different experiences with it.)


End file.
